


Uninvited

by jannah (fromjannah)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood Vines | The Crimson | The Egg, Crack Treated Seriously, Eggpire on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Red Banquet (Dream SMP), Resurrected Wilbur Soot, not actually RPF, not canon but i hope it will be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 19:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromjannah/pseuds/jannah
Summary: Going to a banquet hosted by a demonic egg cult is pretty weird. One unexpected party crasher makes it even weirder.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 124





	Uninvited

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theirroyalhighness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theirroyalhighness/gifts).



> Thanks for being the raddest friend ever, dude. I thought you'd like this one.
> 
> This one's pretty scuffed and the pacing is not great but honestly I had so much fun so who cares.
> 
> TW for a very brief allusion to Tommy's trauma. This is about the DSMP characters, not the CCs. Enjoy!

"Tommy," says Bad warily, looking him up and down and then glancing back to the clipboard he's holding. "You're... here."

Tommy grins toothily, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers and rocking back on his heels. He briefly contemplates shouting some profane statements, just for old time's sake, but he remembers Puffy's stern warnings about "staying alert" and "not making trouble" because apparently the Eggpire is "dangerous" and "Tommy, self-destructive behavior isn't a healthy coping mechanism" or whatever.

"Yep," he says instead, popping the p. "It's me. I'm here. For the party. With my friends -- my bros! Gonna... party. Party so hard."

 _Bitch,_ he adds at the end mentally, just to soothe the cussing urge. _Bitch, bitch, bitch._

Yeah, that's better. 

Despite everything, Bad has the courtesy not to ask about Tommy's life status -- he must know, then; it has been a couple of weeks, after all. He only frowns slightly. "Right," he says, turning around briefly to the party room behind him, considering something before injecting some cheer into his voice. "We'll figure it out. This is for the whole server, after all! Go, go on in." 

Tommy brushes past him, purposely making sure to bump into him, just a little. The party room is generously decorated with... red. A lot of red. Red in the fire of the torches around, red in the vines criss-crossing the ceiling like a suffocating spiderweb, red fabric all over the long tables.

Tommy likes red fine, very fine in fact, but this is a lot.

Bathed in the firelight, he can pick out various other members of the server -- Ponk and Punz off in the corner looking sus as hell; Ranboo and his slenderman-looking ass staying close to Tubbo and watching the vines with a suspicious glare; Eret and Foolish sitting at one of the long tables; Puffy and Niki are walking over to join them. 

"Who decorated this?" ponders Tommy aloud, wrinkling his nose. 

Antfrost is walking around, as if checking on everyone, hears this. He stops in his tracks upon seeing Tommy and does a double-take. Tommy hasn't enjoyed this whole people acting like he's still dead thing, but he can't deny that it's really fucking funny sometimes. "I did," he says, apprehensive, an ear flicking.

Tommy nods sagely. "Explains why it looks like shit." 

He is a goddamn comedic genius. Unfortunately, being a comedic genius is not particularly appreciated these days.

Ant narrows his weirdchamp red eyes -- he should probably get those checked out -- and opens his mouth, pointing forth an accusing finger. The sudden hand motion makes Tommy stumble backwards instinctually, fear forcing its way up his throat and surely into his expression. In his peripheral view, he sees Puffy stand up.

Ironically, he's saved by Bad, who places a hand on Ant's shoulder and asks something about Sam's whereabouts in a quiet, hard voice. Tommy takes the opportunity to flee, but not before hearing "we need Sam here, the Egg requires him" and "but the Warden -- " and "doesn't matter, get him here".

Tommy skedaddles the fuck out of there before thinking over _that_ conversation too hard -- surely Sam would stay in his place, right? -- and goes over to where Puffy is staring daggers into the back of Bad's skull. It's somewhat soothing. 

"You doing okay, Tommy?" she asks him, kind tone at odds with her clenched fist. 

Tommy exhales a shaking breath before plastering back on his smile. "Yeah. I'm a big man, y'know, Puffy, 'm not scared of… catboys."

Niki raises an eyebrow. "She never asked if you were scared of him," she says dryly.

Tommy had thought that Niki has been nicer lately, but he rapidly revises that opinion. He _hmph_ s as Eret does one of their Deep Chuckles and Niki smiles serenely. Foolish has gone off to talk to Tubbo, who is gesturing animatedly into the distance. Foolish looks mildly afraid but more resigned, as does Ranboo besides them. 

Puffy catches him looking at them because of course she does. "You should go join them," she says warmly. "It's probably all going to get crazy soon but you should have some fun before that."

Tommy grits his teeth at the concept of _fun_ and _Ranboo_ \-- they barely interact outside of scheming to kill Dream, because who would want to interact with a best friend thief -- but sighs out exaggeratedly when Puffy gives him a pointed I'm Your Parental Figure Because All Of Your Other Ones Have Betrayed You In Some Way look, which coincidentally matches her I'm Your Therapist And If You Want To Get Better You Have To Listen To Me look. 

"Okay, okay," Tommy says, putting up his hands in a placating motion. "I'll go have fun or whatever." 

Puffy rewards him with a motherly I’m Proud Of You For Making Progress smile which definitely does not make Tommy feel all mushy inside. 

So Tommy goes and socializes and maybe it’s a _little_ bit fun, joking around with Tubbo and Ranboo and making fun of the bad decorations and talking about what Michael has been doing lately. Just a little.

It really does look like the entire server is here, Tommy notes as the night goes on; in fact, the only people that are missing besides Dream and Sam are Phil and Technoblade. This makes sense, because obviously they aren’t party people (not like Tommy who is hilarious and the life of every party), but it still feels a little weird. 

“You good, big man?” Tubbo asks, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah,” Tommy says quickly. “Just, er, a lot of people here, huh?” 

“Yeah,” agrees Ranboo, glancing around and scratching the back of his neck. “It’s kinda weird. What would the Eggpire even want with all of us?”

The three boys chew this over for an uneasy minute before Tommy scoffs. “To _starve_ us, apparently,” he says with comic bluster. “This is a banquet, innit? Where’s the fuckin’ food?”

Tubbo laughs, Ranboo cracks a joke about the Eggpire’s master plan just being to bore everyone to death, and Tommy feels himself relax. Until Antfrost comes through the doors, dragging Sam with him. 

Tommy freezes, a wave of righteous anger overtaking him. He begins to march over but Tubbo lays a hand on his shoulder -- _if he’s here then surely he would have safeguards in place, right? He’s been increasing security since you left, you know that_ \-- so he swallows down the ire and stays in place. 

But his anxiety is clearly being shared around as hands go to sword holsters and shoulders into defensive stances. Tommy swears that the vines woven into the ceiling are moving, creaking and quivering with some kind of anticipation. His heart climbs into his throat and then Bad gets out some kind of large glass container of some red liquid that is dimly _glowing,_ what the _fuck_ , oh god, shit is clearly about to go down, Bad is saying something about the Egg being their savior or something and then -- 

And then the high, heavy, closed door in the room swings open.

Bad is cut off from his speech and everyone turns. Nothing, no one makes a single sound.

A tall man stands in the doorway, ivory skinned and with curly hair of ebony shot through with sterling; a knife-edge beam wider than his fine-boned face; stark white teeth bared like a hunting predator; long arms spread in a grand, wide motion like he’s curtsying to an adoring audience; long coat flaring behind him theatrically; spidery fingers stained with some kind of ash splayed openly, welcomingly. He is anomalous and perfectly fitting in the bloody light. 

A new, familiar fear strikes itself straight into the arteries of Tommy’s heart. His mouth is desert-dry, his pulse is a snare drum in his ears. _What the shit. What the actual shit._

“Sorry I’m late, I've been a bit preoccupied,” says Wilbur Soot, freshly resurrected. “But enough about that. Let's get this party started, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> please let my favorite mentally unstable explosion man crash the red banquet please please please ple
> 
> Thanks for reading! Not planning to write anymore of this but hey, who knows. Make sure to come back when this ages incredibly well (/j). Comments and kudos are very cool.


End file.
